Savior of Stone
by Hiron Otsuki
Summary: When his bride to be is stolen by the Katschei on the eve of their wedding night, how far will one man go to get her back?


This is a oneshot. It has been submitted to Strange Horizons, Realms of Fantasy, and Ideomancer. It has also been rejected by all three, thus being why it appears here.

When a psychotic Katschei steals the girl you wanted to marry, the obvious recourse is to go get her back, right? A tragic ending to a tragic tale. . . .

* * *

My father always said that I was a stupid, impulsive boy. Now, too late to do anything about it, I realize that he was right. 

My name is Gregori, son of Pietor, and I am- I _was_ a boyar in Rus, when Vladimir the Wise ruled Rus.

I was betrothed to Katrina, daughter of Ivan, when she was eight and I fourteen, two years before my father died of a miscast spear in a boar hunt. Eight years later, when she turned sixteen, she and the rest of the bridal party journeyed to my lands, a journey that, in a sense, she would not see the end of.

I loved her from the first moment I saw her, when her family was just coming in from the snow that shrouded the land. From the moment that her hood came off, I knew that I had something infinitely precious. Her hair was as gold as a field of wheat in the height of summer, bound in a single braid as thick as my wrist. Her eyes were bluer than the oceans, not that I'd ever seen them. I probably never will, now. Her face was alight with the joy of adventure, delicate and heart-shaped, seemingly crafted of the finest porcelain and as easy to break.

Her breath- it was as a puff of air from the heavens, and not one tooth was missing or crooked. All I had asked for was a pretty wife, yet God had granted me an angel!

She appeared three days before the wedding was to take place, accompanied by a phalanx of her father's finest guards and she was attended by a half-dozen maidservants, all pretty, though not one drew my eyes from my intended.

True, she attracted me like a bee to honey, and I fleetingly thought of the pleasures of the bedchamber, but those thoughts were at once banished by the innocence and purity I saw in her eyes.

Her father oversaw the entire operation, seemingly worried about something. I noticed not, and even if I had, I would not have cared. What seemed to be the most beautiful girl in Rus was to be my wife, and I could not wait for the nuptials.

On the day of the wedding, her father and all of her guards seemed especially tense and on edge, though again I did not notice, even though it should have been obvious. I was oblivious to the world, and nothing could pierce the veil of happiness that shrouded my mind.

During the ceremony, we stared passionately into each other's eyes, and in that moment I knew that she loved me as much as I did her. I did not deserve such an honor. For my failure, there can be no redemption. Her eyes met mine, and we were awash in color like a storm over a sea, and we loved, despite the six-year difference between our ages. It was the perfect match- she, tiny, blonde and blue eyed; buxom and beautiful. As for myself- ah, I was tall and broad of frame, with stormy grey eyes, handsome and dressed in my fine coat of black fox fur. The kiss we shared at the end of the marriage ceremony was brief, but it promised so much more for after dark…

That night, still dressed in my wedding finery, I went to the bridal chambers to greet my wife and begin the wedding night. Cocksureness and pride showed on my face as I walked down the halls, eager to greet the night with my bride, and I earned several smirks from the few servants who saw me. I flung open the doors leading to the bridal suite, passing the one woman that guarded the girl, looking as impressive and puffed-up as I could, to find that I was impressing- nothing. My bride was nowhere to be seen! Confusement passed over me until I realized that she might be hiding in the bathroom. Quietly I stalked over to the bathing chamber and leapt through the door, only to find an empty room, with its lone occupant- a chamber pot- sitting silently in the corner.

Annoyed now, I walked out of the rooms, confronting the leaving maid.

"Where is my wife?" The deceptively gentle tone of voice must have communicated my feelings to the woman.

"She is not in her chambers, Milord?" she squeaked nervously.

"These are her chambers, are they not?"

"Yes, she-"

I cut her off. "If these are her chambers, and I am asking you where she is, then she is obviously _not _in them." My tone was one of sarcasm now, and the servant looked frightened to death.

Suddenly her eyes widened, and she turned white. I shook her apprehensively, feeling guilty. I hadn't meant to scare her; I just wanted to know where Katrina was. I removed my hands, but the second that I did she let out a piercing scream. From nowhere, scores of men flooded into the room.

Cries sounded throughout the chamber, and the woman vanished in the throng. More shouting came from the bed chamber, and the words were taken up by the men in the outer chamber. The only distinguishable words that I could make out were my beloved's name, Katrina- and Katschei.

I met with her father later. Surprisingly he did not blame me for his daughter's disappearance, rather, he explained it.

"Stories of these vanishings have been circling the country for a while. I am surprised that you did not hear of them." Though his voice was gruff, his eyes were kind, even through the cloak of sadness that enveloped him.

"Where did she go?"

"It's not where she went, but where he took her."

"He?" I asked angrily. If some man _dared_ lay a hand on my Katrina…

"The Katschei, Gregori. You have never heard anything about him?"

"Apparently not," I said dryly.

"That is difficult to believe… He steals the most beautiful women in Rus on their wedding night. The rumors say that his palace is somewhere in a deep, dark forest, guarded by demons, and that the Katschei is not a man at all, but the Lord of Darkness himself. He keeps twelve of the most beautiful women in a garden, yet he does nothing with them."

"Only twelve? Twelve disappearances could not start rumors flying about all of Rus."

"Indeed," he said. "He has stolen many more than twelve. Only twelve he keeps, and those that are less beautiful than the new arrivals… he sacrifices to some greater demon."

My Katrina! No!

"My daughter is lost," the old boyar continued. "Every man that has gone to rescue the women finds the Katschei, presumably, for none come back. Arabs, Turks, even some of the Chin and Hindi have vanished trying to save them."

An idea began to form in my mind.

"Perhaps a loyal man of Rus could," I said.

"No!" the conviction of his answer surprised me. "Rus men have tried, perhaps hundreds of times to try to kill the demon lord! All have vanished when they go out, never to return! Do not try, Gregori, son of Pietor!"

It really would have been a good idea to listen to him. But I, staying true to my impulsive nature that must have come from my father, insisted on going to fight the Katschei. Nothing could stop me from finding my lost bride, not even an edict from God Himself.

After months of wandering around Rus and asking everyone I met about the whereabouts of the Katschei, among them the _banniks_ of the bath houses and kinder _rusalkas_ of the waters, I found the sorcerer's home. Quite an impressive spectacle, it lay hidden behind thick, impenetrable bushes, layers upon layers of which formed a huge maze around the central fortress. Upon entering it, I lost myself many times, often wishing to die in despair, with only the thought of my little Katrina to keep me going.

Eventually I stumbled into the clearing in the center, and stopped, awed by what lay before me. Fruit trees! Rows upon rows upon rows of blooming fruit trees as far as the eye could see! Cherry trees, apple trees, grape vines twining over elaborate sculptures, oranges, lemons, pears, and fruits that I could not name! The only thing that could _possibly_ be in season were the apples, yet every tree was bursting with both fresh fruit and flower, and the branches hung heavy near the ground, luscious fruit just _waiting_ to be picked. Some innate sense of danger warned me off, however, and I bypassed the delicious fruit, gliding along the wall like the shadow that I wished I was. I crept out of the empty, eerie garden, leaving it to its timeless business, aiming only to save my intended.

Immediately I came upon other, sectioned gardens. One held vaguely man-like shapes shrouded in mist that I didn't want to venture into at all. Now I'm in the middle of that garden, trapped for perhaps all eternity. I passed it in favor of the next, filler with rose bushes, and I stopped to stare. This garden was filled with hundreds and hundreds of rose bushes, blooming with thousands of roses, of every color imaginable! The scent was so heady that I felt dizzy, and I passed on. I ignored several other darkened arches, and another garden of glowing lilies lit seemingly by moonlight, and many more gardens of beautiful and sinister things. By the time I reached the last meaningless garden, one of fanciful creatures carved of flowering roses, it was dark, and finally I heard the voices of women singing and talking. Katrina! I abandoned all thought of secrecy and ran towards them, heedless of any monster that might burst out of the bushes, intent only on reaching Katrina.

I saw bright lights up ahead, flowing over a dark hedge wall. That was where the women must be, I realized. I ran along the wall until I saw more light shining out of an opening in the bushes, stepping through it to catch a glimpse of bright light and the figures of various women, mounted by their shocked and indeed gorgeous faces. Before I could trespass further however, a dark, ominous shape blocked my way. I looked up to recognize the figure of a man silhouetted against the bright light.

"Who are you?" I demanded. "Where is Katrina?" Gasps arose from the women, and in an irrational corner of my mind, I wondered if I'd said something wrong.

"Katrina?" The sensuous voice of the man who had to be the Katschei sneered. I suddenly realized that he was very tall. And very dark. He was clad in a black robe with crimson trimming, and his hair was black as well. Long, and confined in a ponytail, and a goatee of the same color adorned his otherwise bare chin. That wasn't what made me stop in my mental tracks, though. It was the fact that he seemed to suck the very life and light out of the air around him. I felt chills seeping over me, and I wondered if they weren't entirely in my mind. He sneered at me again, as if daring me to oppose him. Being the good would-be hero that I was, I took the bait.

"Where is Katrina?" I repeated angrily. "Where is my _wife?_"

The women gasped again, and two started crying.

"Oh, _her_," the Katschei said contemptuously. "She was too weak to endure here. Simply a weak woman. Just couldn't last, poor thing," he said mockingly. His sneer turned into an antagonizing smile. "She marred her beauty, so I killed her."

Time froze in its tracks. My mind froze, as did my heart in that one fateful moment. Silence abounded through the garden.

"What?"

"Foolish boy. I'll elaborate: she could not bear living here, so after two weeks, when I relaxed my guard, she took a knife and sliced her face open."

Another three of the women started crying, and the rest were glaring angrily at the Katschei.

"When I found her, she was lying on the floor, weak from the blood loss. She looked at me and begged me to kill her. Of course I could not refuse her last wish," he continued mockingly. "But really, she was of no use to me ugly,so I killed her and fed her to my pets." He gestured behind me, and I was suddenly aware of looming presences around me, hulking shadows shadowing the shadows themselves were surrounding me. I whirled around, and the shadows formed into grotesque creatures that verily resembled demons from the pits of Hell. Cold red eyes in piggish faces;baleful blue eyes in cadaverous faces, all atop a range of bodies from those of centipedes to bulls to humans with limbs disproportionate to their bodies. One grinned at me, revealing a set of truly vampiric fangs, and I turned back around, shaking.

Katrina had been fed… to these _things?_ My Katrina was dead?

The question echoed through my mind, echoing and resounding until I had only one answer.

Yes.

Rage consumed me, and I attacked the demon lord that stood before me. A hundred times my dagger stabbed him, and I intended to deliver a thousand more, but his minions dragged me off of him while I was still screaming obscenities and weeping. I stared at him in stupefaction. Not one of the wounds was bleeding, nor were there any flesh wounds beneath his clothing. The monster that stood before me was immortal.

He regarded me coldly, a serpentine amusement flickering through his eyes before he opened his mouth.

"Take him to the garden," he said shrewdly. "The men could use some company, and it's been such a long time since another was added to their little family." The demons hauled me away, the Katschei following with a crude anticipation written on his face, the maidens trailing behind him.

I couldn't see them very clearly, but I was fairly sure that two were Sami, one was from Chin, three from Rus, one with flaming red hair that could have been from the Green Isle, and the other four I could not identify, but that could have been because the monsters were continually cuffing me and I never was able to get a good look. Now I see them every day, for the Katschei forces them to see me every day.

The demons dragged me into that fell garden full of mist that I had passed before and stopped.

The Katschei waved a hand languidly, and the haze lifted. I stared in abject horror. Scattered about the garden were men! Not just any men, though. Warriors from the Far East and good Rus men and more warriors from Sami, and even more men from places that I could not name! Not one movement was to be seen; all were made of stone.

Colorless gray orbs stared at the intruders and unmoving stone hands reached for weapons that would crack before they cleared their sheaths. With an impending sense of doom, I realized that I was to join their ranks. Impressment threatened, but I did not care. My world was nothing without my light; my love; my Katrina. My wife, my lover, my beloved was dead, slain by this demon master's hand.

Now, as the demons led me to my final resting place, I reflected. Perhaps some other hero would come and slay this evil where I had failed. My feet rooted to the spot, and I felt numbness creep up my legs, and I struggled to bend my body into a final position.

Now in eternal imprisonment, perhaps I could defy the Katschei. I set my face in a scowl of defiance and placed my hand upon my sword and the other upon my hip. My limbs became stone, numbing and yet bringing a terrible coldness. I twisted my lips into a peaceful smile; perhaps this would help soothe these and any future women that would pass through this garden. It was a nice thought, but I doubted that it would have any positive effect on the women. The current women were watching me with expressions of pity and sorrow on their faces, and I smiled gamely at them as my chest hardened. I spared the Katschei one last, venom-filled glare, then returned my face to the serene expression. My face joined my body in the frozen state, and turned gray. I could see everything around me, and could hear everything, and my sense of smell was dim, but I was still conscious. Another effect of the spell, no doubt. The state of complete awareness, yet being unable to move must drive my comrades mad. I wondered if I would join that group, too.

The Katschei and the women left the garden after a while, guarded by the denizens of Hell. I was left alone with the rest of the statues under the darkening sky, with not even the sounds of crickets to keep me company. For a moment, I thought I could feel Katrina's kiss upon my lips, and smell her sweet breath, and I could swear that she was standing right beside me, offering support. Then the presence was gone, in reality only a figment of my already disintegrating mind, and I descended into a haze of shock and grief at losing the only thing sacred to me.

Another hero _would_ come, but I had failed, as so many others did before me, and my tale fades into oblivion, all because it did not end with a

Happily. Ever. After.


End file.
